


aimless

by Rebldomakr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Captivity, Character Death, Harry Potter is a Horcrux, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Not Beta Read, Stockholm Syndrome, Voldemort Knows
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-09 02:53:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13472181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebldomakr/pseuds/Rebldomakr
Summary: Voldemort captures Harry when he leaves Privet Drive with the Order on July 27th. He knows what Harry is, and his worth to him, and he intends to hold onto him. All he has to do is convince Harry is that he's a better option than anyone or anything else.(tags will be updated as story progresses)





	1. I. Forever Seventeen

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy my babes

Harry woke up in a brightly lit room. The first thing he saw was sunlight streaming through a window, bringing brightness to a ruby red carpet and causing gold trinkets to shimmer.  It was strange, sitting up in an unfamiliar bed, but it was even stranger to look around. There was no way he was with an Order member, as far as he knew none of them had enough gold in their vaults to fill a room with so much needless extravagance.

From the crystal chandelier that hung from a white stone ceiling to the mahogany wardrobe with intricately carved designs on the wood, to the crystal knobs on a set of double doors. Harry noted the numerous doors that led out of the bedroom. Excluding the double doors, there were four. Each once looked much the same to the others, except for one that seemed a foot longer and a foot wider than the rest.

He sat there, still. When he touched his face, he realized he was wearing his glasses. He pulled them off, and saw the cheap metal was bent and there was a tiny crack on the right lens. “Oh, that’s great.” He sighed. He could try to fix it with a spell, but he had no idea where his wand was at.

 _Even better_ , he thought.          

A quiet pop came from behind the largest door, muffled slightly but loud enough for Harry to still be able to hear it. He pulled himself out of the bed and stood, cautiously taking steps closer to try to hear something more behind it.

“…woke…wards…I don’t know..” “Alert…the..Lord…” “…don’t…you…” The last thing he heard was a very angry “Fucking cunt!” It was echoed by a woman’s deranged cackles. Harry’s blood froze.

He recognized that cackle. He didn’t know where he was, but he was definitely able to guess who was keeping him held in the bedroom.

Harry shoved his glasses back on, and bolted towards one of the other doors and pulled it open. He found a children’s play room and went to another door, finding instead a small library with another room adjoining it.  

The double doors revealed a balcony. He didn’t bother to search the final door and instead ran out, looking over the railing. “Damn!” Harry cursed. It was too far up for him to jump and survive. He remembered a movie he saw once with the Dursley’s, one of the few he’d ever been allowed to see. A teenage girl snuck out of her bedroom window by tying all of her blankets together. Like rope!

Encouraged, Harry bolted to the bed and began to pull off the blankets and sheets.

He couldn’t hear the nonexistent noise of someone appearing outside of the bedroom, but he heard the door’s hinges squeak.

Harry froze.

“You’ve made such a mess.” Lord Voldemort’s voice wasn’t entirely cold. It sounded amused. Harry was too cowardly to look towards the Dark wizard, at first. It took him a moment to gather up the Gryffindor courage he was supposed to have.

Staring straight into the delighted red, reptilian eyes of the Dark Lord Voldemort wasn’t as hard as he thought it’d be. Once their eyes met, he felt his fear drain away, replaced by fury and probably stupid bravery. “Voldemort.” He snarled.

“I don’t believe you should be acting so rudely to me, Harry.” Voldemort scolded. He walked forward and the door closed itself behind him. A lock clicked loudly into place. His eyes weren’t glittering like gems under light, but boiling like red-hot lava. They glowed, but that same glow was sucked into slit pupils. Harry’s mind produced ‘beautiful’ before he could stop it.

“I don’t believe you expect me to be polite. You killed my parents.” Harry snapped back. He wondered if his friends were dead, or injured. When he tried to think what he last remembered before waking up in the bedroom, all that appeared was waiting for the Order to come pick him up from Privet Drive. He was days away from his seventeenth birthday. Questions surged and though he was desperate for answers, he doubted Voldemort answer any of them.

“War isn’t kind. Your parents killed many of my followers. They made children orphans and destroyed entire families without care. What was I supposed to do? Sit back, allow them to destroy me?” Voldemort sneered. “Don’t be so childish, don’t fool yourself into thinking your parents were innocent people. No one involved in war is.”

“You’re lying! My parents wouldn’t-“ Harry began to snarl, but Voldemort cut him off in a harsh laughter.

“Why do you think I could consider you to be my possible equal? Your parents were both strong wizards, capable people. They loved you and they were Light wizards, but do you truly think they did no wrong?” Voldemort questioned after he’d stopped laughing. Harry’s cheeks were flaming with wrath. “The world isn’t so simple as black and white, Light and Dark. Think of the people you know, do you think they are all good, or all bad?”

“It doesn’t matter!” Harry insisted, shoving Dumbledore from his mind. But it wasn’t Dumbledore that was the strongest; Ron. One of closest, dearest friends, had succumbed to jealousy once. He was prideful and tended to be envious of people who had more, financially and materialistically, than him. He was also there for Harry numerous times, had been a good friends way more than he wasn’t. They were like brothers, in every way except for blood. Still, he couldn’t ignore Ron’s flaws, there were many. Harry had flaws, too, though, and he couldn’t fault Ron for them.

“You’re a genocidal maniac!” Hermione called Voldemort that once. “And, what? Because you care about your followers, you’re a good guy?”

“No.” Voldemort said. “I am not a terrible one, either. I do what I believe must be done, even if those actions aren’t kind. My decisions aren’t always empathetic, but,” He shrugged and grinned. “I’ve never claimed to be weighed down by human emotions.”

“You’re power hungry.” Harry snapped.

“Oh, who isn’t?” Voldemort mused, grinning even wider. His teeth were weirdly sharp and light yellow. They looked capable of tearing through flesh. “Do you want to know why I haven’t killed you yet?”

“So you can torture me.” Harry said and scowled.

Voldemort shook his head, slightly, just enough force in the movement to make it noticeable. “I know you want to hunt down my Horcruxes. Finish the work that Dumbledore had begun, but I’ve already started to unwind it. Difficult to recover those shards, you know, even more to find their original containers. Dumbledore was absolutely terrible at hiding things! Once I knew just one thing, everything fell into place. Far too easy.” He chuckled. “I even found my locket in the hands of some slimy woman.”

Harry was pretty sure he was going to die after Voldemort finished his spiel. Probably a very painful, very long cause would bring on his death.

“My immortality is weak, Harry. I achieved it through powerful magic, yes, but it’s flawed magic. The only thing capable of working out those flaws, is the Philosopher’s Stone. I haven’t yet discovered how to make one of my own since Flamel destroyed his.” Voldemort said. “Physical immortality is lost to me, Harry. The body I am in now is temporary. A mimic of what I once was. The only thing left intact of who I was born, of Tom Marvolo Riddle, is my magic. My original body is gone and my soul is broken, but my magic is whole. Yes, my magic is whole…” He trailed off, careful, and stepped closer to Harry.

Harry took a step of his own after every one Voldemort made, until he was pressed against a wall. First, he was five feet away, then four, then three, two, one- he was maybe inches away from him now, back straight and black robes like a Dementor’s cloak. Harry had to admit that the Dark Lord was terrifying, even if it was only to himself.

“You’ve succeeded me, Harry. Your immortality is perfect.” Voldemort said.  “Your magic is whole, your body is your original, and your soul is intact. Not a cost you’ve had to pay.”

“I’m not immortal.” Harry was definitely confused now.  “I  haven’t done anything to be immortal.”

“No, you haven’t needed to.” Voldemort said. “Dumbledore knew before me. I probably would’ve have if it wasn’t my little spy and his oath to your mother.” He chuckled. “On the night I killed your parents and tried to kill you, my body was destroyed. It turned into ash and my soul was forced into the open air. A bit of it broke off and it attached itself to you.”

Harry couldn’t breathe. His heart pounded in his chest and he felt like his world was beginning to crumble. _That’s impossible, how, how,_ how _?_ He thought, anguished.

“A follower of mine disguised himself as Moody. The fool isn’t nearly as paranoid as he should be.” Voldemort reached forward and rubbed his index finger over the lightning-shaped mark on Harry’s forehead. It wasn’t painful, only delicate sparks that, without, felt as though anyone else was touching him. “You were brought to me. I used Alastor Moody to complete the ritual and my soul was completely bound to you. Your body will never age or change for as long as you are my Horcrux. If you die, it dies, and if it dies, you die. You are tied to it, and you are tied to me. Forever.”

“No.” Harry whispered.

“You are mine, Harry. I am your Lord. You shouldn’t reject me anymore. I’m the only one you will have to face eternity with.” Voldemort said, almost a whisper back. “I am your God, Harry. I can be good to you and to your friends, to all the muggleborns, if you obey me.”

The Dark wizard walked backwards away from Harry, eyes glowing even brighter with every step. “Take some time to consider. I’ll leave you be, for now. There’s clothes in the closet, things you can read and play with. I’ll have new glasses delivered to you and food will come three times a day.” The door swung open and there were two Death Eaters, backs facing Harry, standing outside.

“Be good for me, Harry, and I’ll be good to you.” Voldemort said before he turned around and left.

His words, and the slam of the door, echoed in Harry’s ears as he collapsed to the ground. He sobbed until he couldn’t anymore.


	2. II. Allowances

Time was told by the meals he was served. He knew he had woken up in the afternoon, because the first meal he had was dinner. He went to sleep and, when he woke up, the House Elf served him breakfast. He had three meals a day, just as Voldemort had promised. The Elf would come occasionally throughout the day to bring pitchers of water or snacks. His new glasses were made out of gold metal and he could see through them better than he did through his old pair.

The first night, Harry tried to tie his blankets and sheets together to get escape via the balcony. The blanket erupted into fire when it was thrown over the railing. An owl delivered him a letter, most likely from Voldemort, that wrote to him: ‘ _Nice try. You won’t be able to escape._ ’ He ate the dinner that was brought to him earlier and went to sleep, hoping that the food was poisoned. It wasn’t because he woke up.

He spent his first day awake in the bedroom, sitting on the bed. Harry refused to take advantage of the bathroom or anything else in the rooms. It was a very slow day and his only company was the House Elf that tended to him. It refused to talk him and treated him like he was a very stupid child. After lunch, it brought him some of the dolls from the child’s play room and said, “Maybe playing will make you feel better! I can bring candy, too!” Harry refused both ideas.

On the second day, Harry ended up taking a bath. He hated that he enjoyed it. The water was warm and it removed all the grease he felt was sticking to his skin. The clothes in the closet weren’t all meant for males, there was a small assortment of dresses and women’s underwear. It was horrifying to look at and he wondered why Voldemort had given him them. He just dressed in the linen pants and shirt. There wasn’t a word he could come up with other than ‘weird’ to describe the feeling he felt, wearing briefs that the Dark Lord had given him.

Pushed by his boredom, on the third day, he went to the library. The books were all beyond his comprehension and he decided they were just there to taunt him, Voldemort’s way of calling him stupid. He decided to empty out the shelves by throwing the books off of the balcony. Watching them burn away into ash entertained him until he was brought lunch. The House Elf looked at the library, popped out, then reappeared with an armful of shopping catalogs.

“Lord says for you to pick out books you want.” It said and unloaded them onto the bed before leaving again. It came back shortly to retrieve his dishes.

Harry refused to do anything with the catalogs. He spent the fourth day exploring and detailing the rooms in his mind. He gave in on the fifth and went through the catalogs. With parchment, a quill and a bottle of ink taken from the tiny office connected to the library, Harry wrote down all the books he thought looked interesting to read.  

The House Elf took the list away when she brought dinner. The morning of the sixth day, Harry woke up to all the books he asked for sitting on the shelves in the library. There were new catalogs sitting in the office, not just for books, but also for clothes, toys, jewelry, and one entirely for different types of shoes.

_I want company._ Harry wrote down and handed it to the House Elf when it came to deliver lunch.

He didn’t care if it was Voldemort himself, he felt all alone in the rooms. Even with the Dark Lord offering to get him anything he wanted, it didn’t make up for being by himself. The House Elf wasn’t friendly and he missed Ron and Hermione more than ever. He wished he knew where they were and decided to ask Voldemort for information on them, next.

After giving the House Elf the second note, it took three days for anything to come to him. Instead, he was brought boxes full of expensive things. The clothes in the closet were exchanges and vials of sweetly-smelling liquids filled up a cupboard in the bathroom. New toys were added to the child’s play room which was more like an insult than anything else.

It was the eleventh day when the door opened and Voldemort entered. He transfigured useless trinkets off of a shelf into a table and two chairs, set them by the bed. “Sit down, ask me what you want to know.” The Dark Wizard ordered, taking one of the chairs himself.

After he sat down, Harry only waited a few seconds to awkward silence before he asked, “Where are my friends? And the Order? What happened to them when you took me?”

“I didn’t harm them.” Voldemort said. “I merely had you delivered to me. My followers didn’t attack and they went their way. Since your disappearance, they’ve been trying to find you.”

“Do you have spies among them?” Harry asked, clutching at his pants’ fabric.

“Yes. I know Nymphadora Tonks is pregnant with Remus Lupin’s child. The Weasley’s are under my close surveillance, the oldest boy and his girlfriend are married now.” Voldemort’s voice was considerably bland, but Harry soaked up every work he said. “The patriarch works at the Ministry still, though now it’s completely in my control. As does one of the boys. Your friend Ron and Hermione are both currently missing, and-“ He paused. Harry didn’t notice it. “-Dumbledore left you Gryffindor’s Sword.”

“Gryffindor’s Sword?” Harry wondered out loud.

“Once I find it, I will allow you to have it.” Voldemort stated.

Harry nodded. It was strange to feel Voldemort’s kindness personally. Easier to experience it through things delivered by a House Elf, than face to face. In the corner of his eye, he saw the dollhouse in the playroom. “Why did you give me toy room?” He questioned.

Voldemort frowned. “Do you not enjoy it?” He seemed displeased. “I had thought you would. Your bedroom at Privet Drive had toys inside of it.”

“They weren’t mine. They were my cousin’s broken toys.” Harry explained.

“Ah.” Voldemort grunted. His eyes burned and he seemed extremely unhappy, bordering on anger. “The more I learn about these relatives of yours, the more I don’t like them. I found their hiding place and investigated them, and I had discovered-“ He stopped in the middle of his sentence. His face distorted into what was probably supposed to be a scowl, but it looked like a snarl frozen in place. Saliva on his canines glistened and Harry, again, noted how sharp they were.

Harry swallowed the air in his mouth. “I can try to play with the toys.” He said.

The Dark wizard nodded. “I will leave them be, for now. If you find no use of them, I can refurnish the room to whatever you wish.” He said. “Do you require anymore company?”

“I’ve been alone for days here.” Harry said. “I hate being by myself. Can’t I just leave the room?”

Voldemort considered briefly before agreeing. “Tomorrow, your House Elf will begin taking you out to join me for breakfast and dinner. I am out during lunch. She can take you to the gardens at three o’clock from now on. Are these acceptable?”

“I want more freedom.” Harry insisted.

“You haven’t earned it, yet.” Voldemort refused. “Soon, Harry. Continue to behave, and I’ll gift you with more time beyond your rooms. Do you understand?”

Angry, but unwilling to fight in fear of losing what he was given, Harry nodded. “I understand.” He said.

Voldemort left him alone then, and Harry sat at the chair until he was brought food.

He had tomorrow to look forward to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated quick, huh


	3. III. Pursuit of

Breakfast with Lord Voldemort was extremely awkward, but the air Harry breathed felt cleaner and it was better than he could’ve imagined to be outside of the rooms. He was given permission to help the Elves in the kitchen clean the dishes. It wasn’t his favorite thing to do, scrubbing grease off of plates with a tiny sponge, but it was preferred over returning to the rooms. When it was finally time to go back, he had to hold back tears. And when the Elf left him alone, he did cry, heavy, but mostly quiet, heaves into a pillow until his eyes hurt and his nose was dripping.

At some point after lunch, the House Elf took him out to the gardens. Instead of just popping him there, she walked him through the halls and down the stairs. It was nice.

Out in the gardens, Harry was able to see the massiveness of the Dark Lord’s residence. It was insane and he wondered if it was there before Voldemort had first fallen, or if it was something more recent. If he had it before, surely someone would’ve destroyed it though. He figured Voldemort was using it as a replacement for what he used to have.

There were a few Death Eaters walking through the gardens, wands in their hands, tense and ready to fight at any moment. Harry didn’t bother to fantasize trying to escape. He’d be stopped either by some stupid ward, or by the Death Eaters themselves. He bet even the Elf could take him down. He didn’t have a wand of his own and his muscles were weak after spending so much time in so little space.

His skin, so pale that it could match the bathroom marble, tingled delightedly under the direct sunlight. He could smell the pollen in the air and spent minutes just standing there, enjoying the outside more than he had ever before. Harry couldn’t believe he used to take all of this for granted. But Voldemort was capable of draining him more than the Dursley’s ever could. At least they didn’t cover their captivity with sweetness and gifts. It was easier to deal with, when he had nothing nice to hide the isolation.

It was still summer and it was hot outside. Harry’s clothes were too heavy for the weather, and he was sweating in no time, but he refused to go back inside. Instead, the Elf just brought him iced water and told him to be careful.

Harry documented the roses and tulips and the tall sunflowers. He decided his favorites were the magical plants that looked like daises, but every petal was a different color. Another he liked were the ones that were all the same color, but constantly changed shades. He fingered the metallic silver ones and poked a bee that, for some reason, decided not to sting him and flew off.

“Time to go back!” The Elf told him. Harry realized the sun was beginning to set. “Lord will be home soon, dinnertime.” It said.

Sorrowfully, with the knowledge that he’d be back tomorrow, he followed the House Elf back inside of the building. He swore his heart skipped a beat when the doors closed and he couldn’t feel the outside air on him anymore.

Dinner with Voldemort was as strange as breakfast, but this time the Dark wizard talked to him.

“I have decided that, if you prove to me you can be trustworthy, I will allow you to attend Hogwarts.” Voldemort said.

Harry paused and his spoon clanked against his bowl of cream of chicken soup. “Hogwarts?” He repeated, amazed. He couldn’t believe the Dark wizard would let him go there, why would he? His friends might be there, plenty of people who could help him escape, let him go beyond the grounds and hunt down his Horcruxes but, no, he was a Horcrux himself. He had forgotten, almost, and the knowledge burned his brain. Even if he destroyed all of Voldemort’s Horcruxes, there would still be him. Did he have the guts to kill himself? And, when he died, would anyone even have the ability to fight Voldemort and kill him?

“Severus is the Headmaster. My followers occupy most of the positions, with few exceptions. I maintain a delicate balance of Light and Dark there. And I believe having you there will allow me to know the weaknesses. Remove the unequal treatment between those whose parents are Death Eaters and whose parents are not,” Voldemort gestured loosely with his left hand. “I can only do so much without being there constantly myself. And I could, but my presence would no doubt disturb the peace.”

Harry held back a snort. Voldemort would probably send a few students into the infirmary wing. “You want me to be a spy?” He questioned.

“That implies your place there and the reason why will be a secret.” Voldemort said. “You will take up residence with your Gryffindors, but your schedule will be unique and a guard will be by your side constantly.”

“No one will like me.” Harry said, frowning. “And everyone will treat me differently.”

“I think you’re capable enough to know if professors are being unkind to students.” Voldemort said. “I have carefully selected the professors and changed the classes, some of my decisions have been influenced by you, I admit. I don’t want the Carrows teaching if you’re there, they are loyal but foolhardy. Bellatrix cannot be a teacher, either. Too deranged and I know you dislike her.”

“She killed my godfather.” Harry snapped.                                                                                                                            

Voldemort smiled. It was crooked. “If she was any less loyal, I would allow you to kill her. As of now, however, she is a worthy witch and a good follower.” He said. “Anyone else, I will let you.”

“Killing someone doesn’t make me any better than them.” Harry said.

“But an eye for an eye.” Voldemort said. “Did you not attempt to use the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix?”

“I was just,” Harry swallowed spit in his mouth. “I was just upset, then.”

“Still, a comfort for the pain they gave you.” Voldemort said.

Harry shook his head. “No.” He insisted, even as Peter Pettigrew’s face appeared in the back of his mind. He wouldn’t kill. He bet it’d just make Voldemort happy.

Voldemort leaned back in his chair. His chuckle was raspy and sounded a little delirious. “Oh, Harry, you amuse me.” He said.

Harry dug his spoon into his soup. “What are the conditions of me going to Hogwarts?” He asked.

“You will have two guards. One for during the day and another for the night, they will monitor you and who you talk to, and won’t leave you by yourself except to change clothing and go to the bathroom. You will only be allowed on Hogsmeade trips if I permit it for that week. And everyone will know you are there only by my kindness, they will know you are mine entirely.” Voldemort explained, picking up a clear glass that contained what looked like blood but was certainly wine. He held it up to his mouth and flattened nostrils, seemingly smelling it, before taking a long sip.

“My friends will hate me.” Harry said, almost repeating.

“Hogwarts isn’t for friends. It’s for your education.” Voldemort said. “I don’t want your brain to rot. Why do you think I give you books?”

“I barely ready them.” Harry muttered.

The Dark Lord didn’t hear him, or ignored him. “Another condition is you continue to behave. You’ve only attempted once to escape. That is good.” He said. “I need just a few more signs that I can trust you to be away from me.”

“I won’t be able to escape if I always have a guard.” Harry said.

“I won’t underestimate you or the Order.” Voldemort dismissed. “This is merely an idea. We will have to wait and see.”

They ate in silence for a minute more before Harry wondered what day it was. “How long is it until Hogwarts starts the new term?” He asked.

“About two weeks. It is August Fourteenth.” Voldemort said. “Are you done with your soup? I want the next course.”

Harry nodded, even though the small bowl was only half-empty. Voldemort snapped and House Elves rushed forward, removing their bowls and replacing them. It was Shepherd’s Pie.

The rest of dinner passed in relative silence and Harry returned to his rooms.

-

There were boxes piled up on each other, shoved against one wall. Most of the things Voldemort gifted him were already shoved into where they were supposed to be by the House Elf. Harry thought they were all useless. He didn’t understand the purpose of gold chains and silver bracelets and gem-crusted bands, or shirts exactly the same except for color. He was beginning to think Voldemort had too much time and money to go shopping for him.

It was unremarkable day, but Harry counted it as the thirteenth. He finished the first book he’d bothered to begin to read and, he hated to admit, it was a nice read even though it was filled with magical theories and spells he couldn’t even practice to cast. Still, he wasn’t the type of person to read book after book. The only person he’d known who liked to do that, was Hermione. He missed her, and he missed Ron. He missed the Weasley’s and Lupin and Tonks, he missed even his muggle relatives. At least, now, he had Voldemort’s company twice a day.

His second breakfast with Voldemort hadn’t been quite as bad as the first. The Dark Lord was a master of small talk and Harry got pulled into a discussion about Quidditch history. He forgot he was talking to Lord Fucking Voldemort for a few minutes. Harry thought it was nice, just to feel a fake friendship with Voldemort.

Still, he’d finished the book after returning to his room. Lunch hadn’t been served yet, meaning his trip out to the gardens was still far away. He had already taken a bath, extra long just to occupy the time, and Harry didn’t know what to do now. He was beginning to think he might as well just start reading another book.

The Elf popped in and replaced his pitcher of water, and the crystal glass. Before it popped out, “Lord gave things. Use the things! Waste of space.” It sounded like it was scolding. It wasn’t the first time it’d told Harry something like that, though.

Harry hated himself for it, but he ended up entering the playroom.

The carpet changed from red to bubblegum pink, the walls blue with grey polka-dots. There was a massive dollhouse filled with miniature furniture, with a wooden chest next to it. When Harry opened the chest, he discovered all of the tiny porcelain dolls with simplistic, inhuman faces. He ignored those and instead found the model trains. The train set was entirely metal and, to his surprise, when he pushed the train it began to move on its own, steam billowed out of it.

He sat on the floor and watched it chug around the room. Harry watched it circle a few times before going to look at the other things in the room.

In a massive trunk, there was many more toys all jammed messily together. Brooms the size of his palms zoomed around the air when he picked them up, animal figurines that made noises and moved around. He was amused by a lion that appeared to be taking a night while a lioness hunted down a gazelle. The dragons breathed fire and, the tiniest one, even bit him.

Sucking on his finger, where the figurine’s plastic teeth went deep enough to draw a prick of blood, Harry decided to leave the toys alone.

The toys didn’t entertain him for long. He wasn’t a child, after all. It still took up enough of him that by the time he was bored with them, the Elf had returned and gave him his lunch. He only had a few hours before he could go outside.

Harry remembered Voldemort said it was the Fourteenth yesterday. Figuring it was obviously now the Fifteenth, he counted sixteen more days before Hogwarts started. Harry felt doubt creep into his chest. He wondered if he would be able to prove himself enough to Voldemort that he’d be allowed to go.

Even if he was on constant guard, it’d be worth it to be outside of his rooms.

In wait to go see the gardens, Harry took parchment from the office and crumpled the into balls. He entertained himself for a short time, throwing them off the balcony. He wished he hadn’t picked out the books in the library, or at least saved some of the originals so he had something to throw now. He took some of the animal figurines from the playroom and threw them instead. The plastic animals would freeze then turn into liquid, falling many feet down to the ground below. It was morbid, though, because they mimicked the pained sounds of a tortured animal. He stopped after throwing three, finding himself incapable of listening to the screeches and roars any more.

When he saw a snowy owl figurine sitting in the trunk, Harry remembered Hedwig. He wondered where she was, if she was alright. His chest ached. He bet if he asked, Voldemort could find his owl and bring her to him.

 _I shouldn’t get comfortable with asking him for things_. Harry thought, shaking his head. He’d just wait. If he could get into Hogwarts, maybe Hermione and Ron would be there. Maybe they would have her, or at least know where she is.

Eventually, the Elf came and walked him outside to the gardens. Harry had to keep himself from running the entire walk, until it opened the final door. Sunny beams and a rush of fresh air greeted him.

Harry sprawled out on a patch of grass by a cluster of apple trees, staring up at the sky. The blue was far more beautiful than he ever remembered it being. He watched the clouds and imagined what they were trying to tell him. He saw a snake and an eagle soaring, imagined an octopus strangling a pirate ship. He was sure a cluster of tiny white patches looked like an armada of airplanes, followed by schools of fish.

For hours, he just laid there. He laid there until the sun was beginning to set and the Elf told him it was time to back inside to wait for Lord Voldemort to come back home. Then, it’d be dinnertime.

He took as long as he could to walk back inside. His eyes watered when the door closed, but he kept quiet even when he was left alone in his rooms.

-

“Why can I talk to snakes?” Harry asked, watching as Voldemort’s snake, Nagini, left the dining room after being given part of the roast. “Which one of my parents are related to you?”

“Neither of them very closely. Perhaps your father, by some old pureblood marriage.” Voldemort said, sipping his wine glass. He set it down. “However, your Parseltongue gift comes my soul piece inside of you. All Horcruxes have some ability from the soul shard they contain.” He explained.

“And the shard in me gives me Parseltongue.” Harry continued.

It was strange to remember that he carried a piece of Voldemort’s soul inside of him, but he’d had it inside of him for his entire life. He hadn’t thought it could’ve influenced him very much. Only, if it gave him Parseltongue, he wondered what else it gave him, if it influenced how he thought. He wondered if that shard was what the Sorting Hat saw in his first year, trying to sort Tom Riddle and not Harry himself.

The Dark Lord nodded. “I wish I could make it form a greater protection around you, but you are alive. When a shard is inside something alive, it can’t be as protective of itself as it could within an inanimate object.” He said.

“What are your other Horcruxes?” Harry asked. There was no way he could destroy the Horcruxes, he was officially on Voldemort’s constant radar, but if he could somehow get the information to his friends, or to the Order. Maybe they would do what he couldn’t.

“You haven’t nearly earned enough of my trust to know.” Voldemort said.

Harry didn’t let Voldemort’s statement be a deterrent. “Where is Hedwig, my owl? She was with me when I left Privet Drive.” He said.

“She escaped, she’s likely with your friends. Why do you care about her?” He asked.

“Wouldn’t you want to know where Nagini was, if she wasn’t with you? She’s my familiar.” Harry said. Voldemort stared at him, the red in his eyes seemed to move around his pupils and Harry almost couldn’t look away down to his food after a few seconds without an answer.

“Nagini can take care of herself. I would know if she was killed,” Voldemort picked up his knife, the blade full of ridges. “You are my Horcrux, however I cannot sense you very well. I would be displeased if I didn’t know exactly where you were.”

“I’m not a familiar.” Harry said.

“No, you’re far more important to me.” Voldemort said. “You’re my Horcrux.” He repeated. “You’re mine.”

“And you’re my Lord, my god, whatever.” Harry grumbled. He remembered very well when he was told that, when he had first woken up in his rooms. 

“You are shockingly numb to that fact. Often, it’s as though you’re ignoring it. Do you hope that if you don’t confront it, it’ll go away?” Voldemort asked.

Harry frowned and ignored the Dark Lord. He didn’t want to deal with his stupid questions, he decided then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so yeah I'm probably updating way too fucking fast, but that's just how I am.
> 
> There's a lot of things I have the option of building on right now, since this is just the beginning of the story. I have a very basic outline for 50 chapters, but that could change!! It might seem as though this story is moving fast, but I stg it really isn't. It feels agnozingly slow to me.
> 
> Did you notice when Harry started to refer to the rooms' he's in as his own? I hope you did, it was a little egg in there to show the beignning of how his captivity is changing how he's thinking. Stockholm Syndrome, y'all! My fav thing <3


	4. IV. Contentment

On the fifteenth day, August 17th, Voldemort came up with a routine for Harry to follow. It made his time in his rooms seem shorter. Living felt easier. Harry almost thanked him for telling him what to do, until he realized how insane it’d sound. It didn’t matter if he thanked Voldemort or not, he was positive he knew since Harry never complained about the schedule.

Same as he’d done before the routine, Harry woke up when he woke up. Normally it was early enough for him to bathe before breakfast. The House Elf would take him to the dining room typically shortly after he was done getting dressed. He’d eat breakfast with the Dark Lord, the meal filled with small talk and whatever Voldemort wanted to ask him. Afterwards, he would be taken back to his rooms. That was where things deviated.

Harry had just sat around and struggled to entertain himself. On that fifteenth day, he was told to follow the list left on his desk- the desk in his office. There would be things to do on that list. It didn’t take his away his ability to choose what to do, because Voldemort listed options and promised him he didn’t have to do anything on the lift if he didn’t want to. He did, though. He didn’t have anything else to do.

The list included things like feeding the birds in the aviary, which Harry loved to do. There weren’t just owls inside, but eagles, vultures, and what looked like snakes with wings. They were given chunks of beef, and or handfuls of berries, grain, and worms. The Dark Lord owned three different American Bald Eagles, which wasn’t nearly as strange as the dozens of colorful, tropical birds that he had. Harry’s favorite bird among them all was a snowy owl. It was far more white than Hedwig was, but it reminded him of her. He gave it just a little bit more food than the others.

Another option on the list, was checking on Nagini. Voldemort’s familiar liked to wander around, impossible to find unless she wanted to be found. Harry came to appreciate her, if only because she toyed around with the Death Eaters. She snapped her jaws at them and hissed whenever she felt like watching them squirm. He once saw her coil around two Death Eaters together, only letting go after one of them made a pained noise. Harry was later told Nagini broke a few of their ribs, dislocated a shoulder, and broke a clavicle. Checking on Nagini wasn’t removed from the list even though Harry was definitely terrible at it, and Harry only chose it so he could wander around.

Regardless of what he was doing, however, he always had a minimum of three Death Eaters trailing after him. It made Harry believe even less that he was going to be allowed to attend Hogwarts. Why would Voldemort give him three guards on his own property, but one at Hogwarts? He supposed it didn’t matter. At least, now, he had things to do.

It was the eighteenth day. Harry had spent the morning feeding the birds. He’d already eaten lunch, which included three different types of sandwiches and a bowl of soup. The House Elf that’d been tending to him since day one gave him candy to drink while he looked for Nagini.

Shortly into his adventure, Harry saw a clock on the wall and noted it was past noon. He glanced to his three guards, robed and masked and completely quiet, then continued to walk on.

Harry was becoming familiar with much of Voldemort’s home. As far to his current knowledge, there was five floors not including multiple underground sections. The kitchens were completely separate from the dungeons, unlinked by even a doorway. The dungeons sunk deep into the ground, forming two floors of its own. He knew there were four towers by looking outside, but he’s only been able to find the path to one. The aviary was probably on the East, next to it were greenhouses then the reptile habitat. The gardens were probably somewhere towards the South, or the North. Harry didn’t have a compass and he was never outside during the night to tell by the stars, but he had was the knowledge of which direction the sun rose and the direction it set.

His rooms were on the fourth floor. He’d never been up on the fifth, but he knew he’s seen the stairways leading up. He ate dinner on the bottom floor by the kitchens. There was a library that took up a huge chunk of Voldemort’s home, a dome that stretched up from the bottom floor up to the third. He had never imagined there could be so many books in one place. Hermione’s mind would’ve been blown. Harry hoped he could show her, maybe one day.

Yeah, maybe, if Voldemort was dead.

Unwrapping a Chocolate Frog and stepped down the stairs to be taken down to a weird, cut-off area that was on the third floor. It held a few useless bedrooms and a room filled to the brim with broken instruments.

He went through each of the rooms, tripped over a violin in one, before heading back up. He was barely aware of the three Death Eaters always five steps behind him.

Time was spent fruitlessly as he walked about, trying to make a mental map of Voldemort’s home. Harry went back and forth a few times, using decorations on the wall as landmarks. A unmoving portrait of a scowling queen meant he was right by the stairway down to the second floor, the marble bust on the ebony shelf meant he could turn right and find a room filled with mirrors.

Harry was told it was time for his trip out to the gardens, long into his journey. The Death Eaters didn’t follow him outside, or at least pretended not to. They just walked around in a tight radius. He hadn’t noticed it, or considered it, before, but he was sure they’d been there during his first trips outside.

The Elf brought set up tea and biscuits on a table surrounded by purple flowers. Harry asked it to bring him the book he’d left bookmarked on his bed, and it did.

He sat down, opened the book and looked around him.

As strange as it seemed, Harry felt content right then. The fact that he was Horcrux felt far away, he missed his friends but he never thought of them very much anymore. He would sometimes think about the war and who was winning, but it was a silly thought. He’s pretty sure Voldemort very close to winning if he hadn’t already. He owned the Ministry and Hogwarts, what else was there to grab in the Wizarding World of Great Britain?

-

Harry asked if the playroom could be changed into a more grown-up version. One with chess, maybe. Voldemort agreed to make it into a recreational room.

“Can I have some muggle things in it?” Harry asked him. “Like their video games, and the television’s and movies. I’ve never really gotten to enjoy them before.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Voldemort said.

When Harry went to bed on the nineteenth day, he woke up the next morning to the playroom completely different. While the carpet and wallpaper hadn’t been changed, all the toys were gone. There was a muggle television set up very neatly on a wooden table. There was a VHS player connected to the television and, to accompany it, shelves full of VHS tapes as well as a trunk sitting by it filled with many more. He was given numerous game systems too, many he didn’t recognize even Dudley ever having, with plenty of games to play on them, and about a dozen muggle shopping catalogs. A circular table was placed inside with two chairs and the muggle chess set placed on top of it, too.

Voldemort visited him that morning. “I can stop by tonight before dinner, we can play chess together.” He said.

Harry beamed. Even if it was the Dark Lord, he’d love to be able to play chess. He hadn’t realized he had no one to play with until he saw it sitting on the table. “Thank you!” He said.

That day, Harry ignored his list. He’d even forgot to go outside. He was too busy learning how to connect the game systems into the TV with the help of the Elf. His favorite game was Independence Day, played on a light grey game system labeled ‘PlayStation’. Harry didn’t even leave it to play lunch. He only turned it off when it was probably a short time before dinner because the Elf told him the Dark Lord would be arriving shortly.

He did remember Voldemort’s idea to play chess immediately. Harry was amiable to it.

Sitting on the chair by the white pieces, Harry waited. It only took a few minutes before Lord Voldemort stepped into his rooms and walked with strange familiarity into the playroom-turned-recreational room. He realized the names were similar, but he thought ‘recreational’ sounded better for a seventeen year old boy to spend time in.

Voldemort took the remaining seat, his robes moving strangely around him as though they had a mind of their own. There certainly wasn’t any wind to cause them to move and, even while Voldemort was still, they moved anyway. “You’re first.” He reminded.

Harry moved his Pawn on 2b to 3b. Voldemort mimicked the move on the opposite end of the board, eyes seeming amused.

Ron was excellent at playing chess, better than Harry and Hermione, and pretty much everyone else in the Gryffindor House. Harry hadn’t seen him play someone who he hadn’t managed to win at least a single game against. Supposedly, a lot of people’s complaints were that Ron didn’t always play through typical tactics or strategies that they were taught to play. It was often that with these loose way of playing that brought on defeat, but Ron always managed to use it to his advantage.

Playing now, against Lord Voldemort, it was very different. At first, it felt like his movements were being mirrored. Then Voldemort started to deviate, eventually using his Rook and Knight to take his pawns off of the board, turn by turn. It made Harry feel incapable, as though no matter what he did his pawns were just going to be killed off.

The game probably lasted about ten minutes before Harry lost.

It would’ve hurt his ego if Harry hadn’t already known he was terrible at chess. “Can we play again?” He asked.

Voldemort nodded and gestured his hand over the board. The pieces moved to their original spots.

“Why did you get a muggle version?” Harry asked. He moved his Knight first this time.

“You had asked for muggle games.” Voldemort said simply. He moved a Pawn.

Harry paused for a second, studying the board. He decided to move a Pawn, wondering if he could somehow manage to do the same thing Voldemort had done to him. “I thought you hated muggles. Thank you for the games, by the way, I hadn’t really thought you’d get me so much. I haven’t really looked at the movies yet.” Harry said.

“I merely walked into separate muggle stores and bought whatever the muggles told me were good to have.” Voldemort stated. He moved the same Pawn. “For both the games and the movies. When I was your age, there weren’t devices like that. The muggles have advanced rapidly. I bought many of the same things and given them to certain followers to study. Radios are such a basic form of communication, and rare among many wizard homes. If we could find a way to use the television with magic, perhaps it would be more popular. A greater audience to listen to propaganda, you understand.”

Harry held back depressing thoughts about helping Voldemort with his campaign. “What about entertainment?” He asked.

“Propaganda can be entertainment, Harry.” Voldemort smiled. “It’s your turn.” He said.

They played a total of seven games of chess before deciding to leave to eat dinner. Harry wondered if the seven games were counted by Voldemort, too, to reach his favorite number.

“You grew up in the nineteen-thirties, didn’t you?” Harry asked as they walked, side by side, down the hallway.

“I was born on the end of 1926, but you already know that.” Voldemort said.  Harry winced. “Don’t worry, I know Dumbledore has shown you much of my early life.”

Harry rotated his shoulders and looked down at his feet. They reached the stairway that would bring them directly down to the bottom floor.

“Do you want to know what is was like growing up as a wizard then?” Voldemort asked.

“Uh, yeah.” Harry said. “There wasn’t any television back then, was there? Not a real bunch of movies, either, I don’t think.”

“Movies, yes, but they most were in black and white. There were some in color. The orphanage would occasionally show movies, the ones without any sounds.” Voldemort talked slowly. His large steps shrunk and his shoulders began to tense, the slit pupils in his eyes widened just so. “They would clean out the dining area, remove the tables and line up the chairs. I thought those movies were magical. When I was a child, I thought of being an actor.”

The Dark Lord’s face twisted for a brief second. Harry stopped paying attention to where he was walking, transfixed on Voldemort’s face. He couldn’t remember ever seeing so much emotion painted across it. Even though his eyes were the same as they’ve always been, they _felt_ different. The red didn’t seem frightening or even odd.

“I grew out of that thought, of course. I was being a silly child. I grew up. I wanted instead to be a surgeon or a coroner, or a lawyer. Maybe a politician. I never thought too deeply, then I was retrieved from my life as a common orphan and,” Voldemort’s voice dropped a pitch. “I was **welcomed** into the Wizarding World.”

“They didn’t treat you very nicely in Slytherin.” Harry didn’t think it as a question. Voldemort likely sensed that, but he nodded anyways. “What did you do to them? I know you must’ve done something, you avenged yourself against the muggle children in the orphanage children. I remember the rabbit, and the cave.”

Voldemort grinned. It didn’t seem cruel. He almost looked like a man about to tell a very funny, but likely offensive, joke. “I bested them in every way. I told young ladies I would marry them, but I took their virginity and left them heartbroken. I did the same to many young lords.” He chuckled. “I tortured some. I would remember their names and take all of their family’s wealth later on, for the ones I couldn’t get in Hogwarts. I shaved off Abraxas Malfoy’s hair in my first year and painted acid on his skin. He spent a month in St. Mungo’s. He became…” The Dark Lord let out a sigh. “He was the only friend I will ever have in my life.”

“I-“ Harry was almost stuck on the fact that the Dark Lord admitted to shagging both girls and boys. It was strange, he hadn’t ever heard of two boys even having sex. Even stranger was the fact he had even a single friend. He had been brought to believe that Voldemort never even had a friend, only followers. “You became friends with someone you put acid on?”

“Abraxas was forgiving. Unlike his descendants, he was a great wizard.” Voldemort said. “I probably would’ve already ended the Malfoy family if it wasn’t for Abraxas. He died to protect me from a Killing Curse early on in the war.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Harry asked.

“You’re my Horcrux.” Voldemort answered. “I also recognize you struggle to see me as what I truly am, a human. I was born mortal, fragile, and poor. I’ve exceeded well beyond than what every other human could, I doubt I’ll ever be truly surpassed. I am still human. As godlike as I am, I am still human. Most people can’t see me as such, but you need to. We will spend eternity together. Or, forever how long it takes for me to accomplish what I want to, and kill myself.”

“Someone might kill you.” Harry said.

“Anyone who might want to kill me, will have to kill you.” Voldemort said. “They all are currently incapable of killing your. Even then, they must find my other Horcruxes and find a way to destroy them. I know of few things that can.”

“What if I destroyed all your Horcruxes, then killed myself?” Harry asked.

“I will still have to be defeated in a duel.” Voldemort said. “The only person who could have come close to defeating me was Dumbledore. Not because of his knowledge or raw power, but because of that damned wand he wielded.”

“What does his wand have to do with anyone?” Harry shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, anyways.” He muttered. Then, louder, he said, “Your pride is going to kill you.”

“Doubtful.” Voldemort said. “There was a chance, when you were going to hunt me. But now you’re my Horcrux. That Prophecy is essentially worthless.”

Harry wondered what Voldemort was going to do with the world. He wondered if he’d ever get to see it, or only hear of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in my oh-so humble opinion, I do believe Voldemort would allow himself to be vulnerable to his Horcrux. But hey fuck what I think, amiright? OH WAIT FANFICTION :D


	5. V.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear to fucking God I'm gonna jump off a goddamn bridge, Google was NO HELP with figuring out VHS Players and tapes and all that shit. If anyone has any websites that'll tell me more about late mid-to-late 1990's technology, with any release dates for stuff in the U.K. and not the U.S., that'd be bomb.

Harry pushed the play button on the VHS player and quickly scooted himself backwards from the television as it began to play. It was just past lunchtime. Once again, he chose against going outside. He had dragged blankets from his bed and formed a massive cocoon that managed to stay upright on its own in the recreational room. He’s watched three movies already and was onto his fourth. Some of the jokes he didn’t quite understand, but they were all fun to watch. Harry was never allowed to watch movies with his relatives.

He’d watched an animated movie about an American Indian called Pocahontas. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was true, historically. He decided to ask Voldemort, the Dark Lord would probably know. Harry had also watched a movie called Clueless, which had a strange ending. He didn’t understand why it wasn’t weird for the girl to start dating her stepbrother. He had also seen a comedy called Mallrats. All three of the movies were American made. He had tried finding one that’d have British accents, but there was no way to tell.

In the end, Harry chose another animated movie. He tightened his blankets around him and leaned back as the movie began.

 It was the twenty-third day, August 25th. Voldemort hadn’t talked to him yet about going to attend Hogwarts for his seventh year, but Harry had already given up. He was sure it was just to give him hope then to destroy it. Some weird form of mental torture, probably. Harry was just grateful he was able to keep track of the days. He was scared of the day he lost count.

Despite having been less than a month awake, Harry felt as though it’d been a year. He was going to spend the rest of his, which was going to be hundreds of years if Voldemort was right about him being immortal. Maybe longer. At some point, he might lose his mind. At least, for now, he had it completely intact.

He continued watching movies until the Elf told him Voldemort was going to be coming in soon to play chess.

After their first game of chess together, Voldemort had begun visiting him every night. They would talk, Harry would ask questions that would always be answered. Sometimes, Voldemort would just tell him things. Like how his friends were doing, that he’d gotten word that Ron and Hermione were going to attend Hogwarts. Harry knew Lupin and Tonks were at a safe house in Germany, waiting out Tonks’ pregnancy. He knew so much it was though he'd been told by them directly. Instead, it was just Voldemort's spies working better than any of the Order's own. Otherwise they would've found him by now, or they don't care about to look for him. 

Harry was also told stories from Voldemort’s childhood and years at Hogwarts. Many of them included stories like leaving someone emotionally traumatized or physically scarred. There were lots of veiled dirty jokes. Voldemort laughed at a lot of his own jokes, a weird string of jumps that were contagious. Some of his jokes were actually funny, Harry could admit.

Voldemort did return to filling his rooms with useless gifts again. Clothes and jewelry mostly now, and Harry tried to wear them often because Voldemort always looked strangely happy. He didn’t look happy too easily and Harry was always strangely pleased with himself when he got a genuine smile. Though the Dark Lord’s teeth were yellow and sharp and deadly, his smile still managed to be handsome.

Harry was pretty sure he was beginning to see Voldemort as a friend. But, Voldemort was also his only real company. He had stopped going out much beyond his rooms, but when he did the things on the lists he was given or out to the garden, he never talked to the Death Eaters. And the Elf wasn’t good company, obviously, either. There was only Voldemort.

The light in the recreational room was still off when Voldemort opened the door. He switched on the light and it stung Harry’s eyes from where he was sitting, still, on the floor. He was almost falling asleep.

“Harry, you have a bed.” Voldemort said.

“I know.” Harry sighed. “This is really comfortable, you know. I used to see Aunt Petunia and Dudley do this in the living room, then play board games and watch television together.” He said. “It feels safe to be in here, even if it’s by myself.”

Voldemort glanced at the television. “Would you like to watch one of your movies with me?” He asked. “I could sit in your pile with you.”

“Cocoon.” Harry said.

“Cocoon,” Voldemort amended. “I could sit in you in your cocoon.”

Harry grinned, bright and shiny white. “Can we?” He almost began to bounce in place from his excitement. “You can choose any movie!”

Voldemort chose a movie called Natural Born Killers. Naturally, it was American.  Per Harry’s instructions, he remained by the player until he had to push a button. Then he went to join Harry inside of the cocoon.

It took a lot of adjustment, but soon they were sitting together with their legs pushed together. The blankets wrapped around them tightly, tilted over both their heads like a large hood. Harry absently noted that Voldemort was strangely warm, and instead of pushing himself away, he let himself sink into the Dark wizard’s body heat. It was comfortable.

They watched two entire movies together and ate dinner in the recreational room. When it was time for bed, Voldemort said they could have another night like it again.

“Not every day, Harry.” Voldemort said.

But, the next night and the night after that, it was almost exactly the same. The only difference was the movie they played.

-

It was the twenty-sixth day. Harry had to spend that dinner in the dining room, missing his rooms. He almost wished he could pull off a tantrum like Dudley could. But, Voldemort wasn’t his mum or dad. He was his captor, he reminded himself. He was lucky that Voldemort was so nice to him.

“I have decided to allow you to attend Hogwarts.” Voldemort stated. “I had originally intended only a single guard, but you will have three. The same ones as you’ve had since you’ve joined me. They will guard you without masks at Hogwarts.”

Harry blinked. “I’m going to go to Hogwarts.” He said, slow.

“Yes. I’ve already ordered your books. I have also made sure that the Gryffindor dormitories are suitable, you’ll have your own dorm instead of sharing. My Horcrux won’t be huddled into a tiny room with so many other boys.” Voldemort wasn’t drinking wine tonight with his meal, but milk. He sipped it from a tall glass almost in the same way he drank wine, though.

“I can’t believe it.” Harry whispered.

“Should I find the Gryffindor Sword while you’re away, I will place it in your bedroom.” Voldemort added.

Harry had already forgotten that Dumbledore left him that. He smiled. “Thank you!” He said. He was so lucky that Voldemort was nice to him, willing to give him a sword.

“Your wand will also be returned to you.” Voldemort said. “Remember, your Hogsmeade trips have to be permitted by myself. Everyone will know you are mine and you are there only by my allowance.”

“I know.” Harry bobbed his head. He hoped his friends wouldn’t be too upset with him. Surely, they’d understand? “Where has my wand been?”

“In my care.” Voldemort said. “Finish your dinner, Harry. We only have a three days until you leave for Hogwarts, we should enjoy our time together.”

Harry frowned. “Won’t you visit me there?” He asked. “What of the Elf that’s been taking care of me?”

“Would you like the Elf to come with you?” Voldemort questioned.

“And all my movies and my television?” Harry frowned, insides squeezing.

“You will have your dormitory. I’ll see to it that your things here are there in time for your first night there.” Voldemort said. “Including your Elf. Is that agreeable?”

When Harry thought of attending Hogwarts, it was a pleasant thing. Something happy, something that felt impossible but nice to pretend might happen if he was feeling lonely. He missed his friends desperately and at Hogwarts, he could see them. He hadn’t realized how anxious it would make him feel, how horrible it was to imagine to be so far from his rooms and the castle he’d gotten so used to.

The twenty-six days he’s spent awake among Voldemort and Voldemort’s home has felt like an eternity. Maybe they effected him like it was?

“I can schedule visits every weekend.” Voldemort spoke.

Harry jumped. He swallowed air that hurt his throat. “Alright.” He said. “I would like that. Thank you.”

“You’ll be happy, out and free. Isn’t freedom what you wanted?” Voldemort asked.

“I do want freedom.” Harry said.

“And you have more of it, now.” Voldemort told him.

What the Dark Lord said _was_ true. It didn’t feel like it.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short guys. Moving out of my mom's place today and into my dad's. In February I'll be getting a new iPhone or a Samsung Galaxy, which is really awesome since my current phone is an awfully cheap Straight Talk thing. Plus I finally got more iCloud storage so I was able to backup everything on my iPad andddd life's going amazing for me tbh. I'm just bragging to y'all
> 
> Anywhooose!! Chapter explanation; Harry is mentally fragile due to his years at the Dursley's. I'm sorry, but it's textbook that ANY CHILD in a neglectful and/or abusive home will grow up with terrible mental health. It takes years of working to fix it, and often it's never fixed. Harry at heart is a good person, however. So he never does anything terrible. He never shows a lot of motivation or ambition, just following in his father's footsteps. He never truly adventures like any teenager normally should. Everyone knows who he is and he has lots of friends, but he's still isolated. In Voldemort's hands, kindness and keeping him mostly restricting to his rooms, it doesn't take long for him to form attachments to the stability given to him. As much as he loved Hogwarts, it wasn't stable. The Dursley's appear stable, but they kept him from food and locked him into a cupboard for most of his childhood. Voldemort is simply kind to him, offers him companionship and gives him whatever he requests. He gives Harry what seems like unconditional affection and Harry IMMEDIATELY responded to it. He formed a strong attachment to his rooms and to Voldemort due to a combination of all these factors.
> 
> basically just explained this because I feel the need to lmao. i'm insecure about this chapter tbh


	6. VI. Onwards

“I didn’t think she was my guard.” Harry said, staring across the room where Bellatrix Lestrange was picking at her husband’s sick with her dark, long nails. They looked like talons. Then again, he did remember hearing her outside of his door when he first woke up.

Voldemort curved his hand around Harry’s neck. In the two days since being told he was going to be sent to Hogwarts, Harry had grown accustomed to Voldemort touching him more and more often. Brushes, mostly, and gently petting on his neck, face, and head. Despite the warmth of the Dark Lord’s hands, it always chilled his skin and he’d get goosebumps.

“She is one of my most trusted. As are her husband and her brother-in-law. I can look to no other to guarantee your safety. Since the war has calmed, they have no other responsibilities.” Voldemort explained. “She knows to listen to you well, Harry. If she gives you any trouble, you may punish her.”

Harry wondered what Voldemort meant by punishment. He hadn’t been hurt since his arrival, but he knew the Dark Lord’s preferred method of torture was the Cruciatus Curse. Did he mean for Harry to use that spell on her if she disobeyed? He’d tried to use it once before, it didn’t hurt. He doubted there was anything worse than killing Sirius.

“Okay.” Harry said.

“Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Rabastan.” Voldemort said. The three of them stopped their intimate bickering and rushed forward, falling into line immediately. Their backs even straightened more than they already were.

“My Lord?” Bellatrix Lestrange said cautiously.

“You understand your responsibilities?” Voldemort questioned.

“Yes, my Lord.” “Yes, sir.” “Of course, my Lord!”

“Harry will have his Elf at Hogwarts, but if he needs something done or brought to him, you will obey him. You will obey his every word, except to leave him on his own. One of you must be with him at any given moment. He may only be left alone when in the bathroom or changing his clothes.” Voldemort had probably already told them this multiple times, but the ways his eyes were gleaming it was as though he didn’t quite believe they understood yet. Like he was itching for proof that they were dimwits, to use it as a reason to bring them to the floor screeching in agony.

They recited their previous response. Harry’s eyes accidentally connected into Bellatrix’. She narrowed them and glared. He stepped closer to the Dark Lord, practically digging himself into the other wizard’s side. He looked down to the ground.

Voldemort’s hand moved from his hand and curled around the back of his head, threading through his hair. “Bellatrix,” He hissed.

The woman winced. “I apologize, my Lord.” She said.

“Do not be so pathetic to intimidate him.” Voldemort‘s voice morphed from a hiss into a snarl. “Do not test my patience.”

The three Death Eaters were dismissed. They would pack their things and return back in the morning. Originally, Voldemort had intended to deliver Harry straight to the castle. It was safer. He chose instead to allow Harry to board the Hogwarts Express. “Nothing will show the world more than you’re on my side, than you boarding the train with my followers as your guards.” Voldemort had said. Harry didn’t mind, he just hoped he could fit his friends into a compartment with the Lestrange family. Or if they’d be willing to sit by them. There couldn’t be much for them to tell him.

“Can we go watch a movie?” Harry asked, once the Death Eaters were gone.

“Harry, the tailor is here to fit you for your robes. I also want you pick out fourteen pairs of shoes, you don’t need to bring all of them.” Voldemort said. Harry’s never even had more than two pairs of shoes before he’d come here. “I want you to most of your jewelry, however. There’ll be trunks in your rooms when you’re done being fitted.”

Harry sighed. “Movie, after?” He tried again.

“Movie after.” Voldemort agreed. Harry smiled.

It took an hour to be fitted. Harry slotted himself in the recreational room immediatelyafter and waited for the Dark Lord to arrive.

Tomorrow morning, Harry would be leaving to board the Hogwarts Express. He would get to see his friends for the first time in a long while. Since the last, it felt like forever. _And you’ll be with the Dark Lord for eternity. Your friends will be dead when your time with his is just beginning. You think this has been a long time? Wait for your first century. You’re stuck with Voldemort. Your friends aren’t going to be with you forever._ His mind whispered.

Harry winced at that background voice whispering to him. He ignored it and, instead, decided to put his focus into looking for a movie to watch with Voldemort.

It was obvious that Voldemort didn’t care very much for muggle-made movies, but he did enjoy the ones that included a lot of death. So, Harry tried to choose horror movies. Today, however, he wanted something more uplifting. Like one of those animated movies. He picked out a few and decided he would let the Dark Lord decide which one they’d watch together, and he’d watch the rest when he claimed to be settling down in bed.

“Hello, Harry.” Voldemort greeted, voice kind and gentle as it always seemed to be towards him. He sat down on the ground next to him. “What are we watching today?”

Harry picked up the four animated movies and set them closer to the Dark Lord. “I’d like to see one of this, but you can choose which.” He said.

Voldemort chose Beauty and the Beast.

-

It’s the twenty-ninth day and it’s not even fully the last Harry has in his rooms. He’s woken up at dawn by the Elf, taken into the bathroom to bathe. He was helped through it, and he fell back asleep in the tub while his hair was being scrubbed clean. He only woke up again when a sponge was being scrubbed over his inner thigh. Still, under the Elf’s insistence, he let it finish. It helped him get dressed, also, in a velvet shirt, linen pants, and dragon-skin boots.

“Good morning.” Voldemort said, waiting on Harry’s bed while he was getting dressed in the bathroom. He closed his copy of the Daily Prophet and set it to the side. “Breakfast should be ready down in the dining room. Then, you’ll meet with your guards and leave for King’s Cross.”

Harry nodded. His boots were heavy, his steps were sluggish. “I guess you can’t drop me off with them, then?” He questioned. Strangeness rolled in his stomach. He wanted to go to Hogwarts, he did, but he also didn’t like the idea of being so far away from the Dark Lord and his rooms. Even though he’ll have everything there he has here, it’s an uncomfortable thing to imagine.

“I cannot.” Voldemort agreed. “Don’t worry, I will visit every weekend and I’ll write you as often as I can.” He promised.

Harry smiled small. “Thank you.” He said. “For everything.”

“You needn’t thank me, Harry. You’re my Horcrux.” Voldemort dismissed. “Still, you’re welcome. I know now you aren’t so accustomed to kindness, but you should never expect anything else than the people around you to worship what you walk on, and goodness from me.”

“As long as I’m good.” Harry said.

Voldemort nodded. “For as long as you are good, you should expect goodness from me, and I’ll always give it to you.” He said. “Even if you disobey me, however, the world should always bow to you. You’re above them all, only under me.” He reached forward and cupped Harry’s chin.

“Thank you.” Harry repeated.

The Dark Lord just removed his warm-chilling touch. “It’s time to go eat.” He said.

Breakfast was short. Pancakes and fruit and fatty cow milk, leaving Harry full and a little sleepy. He lets himself lean into Voldemort when they leave the dining room towards Voldemort’s office, where the Lestrange’s are undoubtedly waiting. By the time they reach it, he’s hunched over to fit himself under the Dark Lord’s arm and he’s smelling rotting meat and mint. It’s strangely intoxicating, he doesn’t want to leave it.

Harry has to, though.

“My Lord,” The three Death Eaters chorus together, bowing low as they can go. Even though now Harry stepped away, Voldemort wrapped his arm around Harry’s shoulder and brings him back close. The three of them bow, again, more towards Harry’s direction. They don’t add in a title or even his name, but he knew it was for him.

Voldemort started talking about rules and his expectations, repeats from before. Harry doesn’t bother to listen, instead looks around the office for the last time. Nagini sleeping on her heated rock, the fireplace place burning dimly, the bear skin rug, the jars of picked organs, and he decided he was going to miss it. He’ll be back though, for holidays, and when he graduated. He only briefly thought about what reasons there’d be for him to leave after he finished his education.

Hermione and Ron would be excited to see him. Probably Ginny, too. Harry’s excited at the thought of seeing them. He can’t wait. He knows they’ll be shocked. Harry figures being with his friends will make up for what he’ll miss.

“Harry,” Voldemort stating his name called back his attention. “Grab Rabastan’s arm. He’ll Apparate you to King’s Cross with himself.” He said.

Harry nodded. Voldemort removed his arm, and Harry walked forward. Delicate as he can be, he wrapped his hand around Rabastan Lestrange’s arm. The Death Eater flashes him with a timid grin.

“Don’t worry, kid, I can Apparate up to three people with myself.” Rabastan Lestrange told him. “Better at it than anyone else, ‘cept for our Lord.”

“Goodbye, Harry.” Voldemort said.

Then, with no real warning, Harry’s sucked into a vacuum and transported miles and miles away.

King’s Cross is almost entirely empty when they arrive. Harry let go of Rabastan and stumbled to the ground. He almost puked, acid and the taste of melon bubbled in the back of his throat.

Bellatrix cackled in delight, watching him with wild eyes. “Potter fell!” She shrieked.

Rodolphus scowled. “Bella, we’re supposed to be guarding him, do you want to disappoint our Lord?” He hissed at her and bent down with his brother, helping Harry to stand back up straight. “Merlin, I’m beginning to think you want him to kill you.”

Harry regained his sense of balance quickly. The Lestrange brothers let him, careful to watch him as they did so. “I’m alright.” He said. “Can we board the train?” He asked. He looked around him.

A scattered bunch of people filled the platform. There were early-risers staying by their parents, while some were already climbing inside after saying goodbye, a child wandering around by herself. It only took a few glance over, gasp, for them all to turn their attention towards him.

Harry had to keep himself from shrinking back and begging to be taken back. His brain reminded him about his friends, so he kept his back straight and walked forward. “Let’s board the train.” He said.

The Death Eaters followed him, their matching black robes swirling weakly around them as they moved simultaneously.

“Three hours until the train leaves.” Rodolphus said. “I’ll stay here to keep watch, make sure no Order members show up.”

Bellatrix pouted. “I’ll stay out here with you, then.” She said.

“No, you can walk through the train.” Rodolphus told her. “Rabastan will sit with Potter. And don’t be mean to him, he’s our Lord’s.”

Harry ignored them talking and boarded the train. “Wait, where are my trunks?” He realized, turning to look at the three.

“Already being sent to Hogwarts.” Rodolphus said.

Harry bit his lip and nodded. “Okay.” He turned back around and stepped up onto the train.

Behind him, Rodolphus remained. His face morphed into a cold, seemingly permanent twist. He glared out over the platform. Bellatrix giggled and blew her husband a kiss. “Love you, dearie!” She cooed.

In the very back of the train, Harry chose an empty compartment and sat inside. Rabastan entered with him while Bellatrix trailed far back behind, looking into other compartments. He heard a boy shriek at the same time she drew back a door and shouted, “Boo!”

“I hope she doesn’t torment everyone.” Harry muttered.

Rabastan laughed. “Don’t worry, she’s just pouting.” He said. “When her nephew gets here, she’ll be slacking off and annoying his friends.”

“Her nephew?” Harry asked. “You mean Draco Malfoy?” Rabastan nodded.

Silence descended in the compartment. Harry didn’t mind. He pushed himself against the window and closed his eyes. In minutes, mind full of his friends’ faces, he fell asleep.

-

Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley boarded the train at ten o’clock. The Weasley’s bid them farewell, nervously watching Rodolphus Lestrange prowl through the packed platform. People always parted to allow him through. Ginny had already rushed ahead to board the train, eager to see her friends. She had become worried for some of them over the summer, the muggleborns who might’ve not come back and the halfbloods whose parents were Aurors.

“Hermione! Ron!” Neville Longbottom popped out of nowhere, eyes wide. “You wouldn’t believe it! Harry’s here!”

“What?” Hermione’s heart caught on fear and hope.

“Where is he, then?” Ron demanded.

Neville pointed down the train, to where they all saw Bellatrix Lestrange poking at a tiny second year Hufflepuff.

Far down, Bellatrix was annoying a girl she guessed was a muggleborn when her friends tried pulling her away. Now, the girl’s friends had scattered. Bellatrix was happy to remain, eager to make the girl cry. “Silly mudblood, you know you’re going to die, don’t you?” She giggled hysterically. “My Lord will disembowel you and feed your guts to his familiar!”

“Leave her alone!”

Bellatrix snarled upwards, directing his attention toward a red-headed boy. “Ronnie Weasley,” She growled. She supposed she shouldn’t do anything to him. Her Lord had told her not to attack or kill anyone without Harry Potter’s permission. She’d definitely be punished if she maimed one of Potter’s friends. “Here to see Potter, aren’t ya?” She questioned. She looked behind him. “Ooh, Longbottom and a mudblood! Delightful company he keeps.” She sneered.

She stepped backwards and banged her hand on the door to her right. “Rabastan! Potter’s friends are here!” She shouted.

The door slid open.

Harry Potter popped out, hair longer than his friends had ever seen it and flying in every direction. “Guys!” His face lightened into pure joy. He lunged forward, stretching his arms out as far he could go t drag Ron into a hug.

Ron didn’t hesitate to return it, squeezing Harry back. “Merlin, Harry!” His eyes began to water. Hermione pushed herself from behind him, wrapping her arms around the both of them.

“Oh, Harry!” Hermione was crying.

“Potter, tell your friends to let you go or I’ll have to remove them myself.” Rabastan Lestrange ordered, leaning out from the compartment. “The Dark Lord said you can’t be touched for longer than three seconds.”

Before his friends could even let him go, Harry wriggled free. Ron and Hermione looked at the two Death Eaters then back at Harry.

“What’s going on? Where have you been? Why are you here? Why are Death Eaters watching you?” Hermione shot off. “And why are they telling you what to do?”

“Come on, get into my compartment. I’ll tell you everything.” Harry said, walking back inside from where he’d come from.

His friends glanced at each other and followed.

When the door slid shut, Neville glanced at Bellatrix. Then, he twisted around and walked off, shoulders tensed and hunched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter in only like two hours , but I really wanted to post it. I might go back and edit it a little, but I dunno yet. If I edit it at all or even just completely rewrite it, I'll make sure this version is deleted and the new version is posted an entirely new chapter so it pops up as brand new. 
> 
> FYI writing with 3 Lestrange's IS FUCKING DIFFICULT

**Author's Note:**

> sooo....what do you think?? :D
> 
> I should prolly be working on editing Embers instead of writing this but oh well lmao. thinking I make make an actual playlist for this story cuz that's what i tend to do for multi-chapter stuff but I really just listened to r.i.p. to my youth on repeat as i wrote this


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